


turn the lights off!

by boyfriem



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Archivist Sasha James, Characters will be added as they appear - Freeform, Gen, Rating and Warnings Subject to Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23565679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boyfriem/pseuds/boyfriem
Summary: in which sasha becomes the archivist, and that either ruins things or fixes them, depending on which way you look at it
Relationships: Sasha James & Tim Stoker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	turn the lights off!

**Author's Note:**

> jonny sims is standing in my living room holding a big sign that says "write an archivist sasha fic". he's getting closer.. oh god he has a metal pipe- 
> 
> title is from turn the lights of by tally hall. a song about weird monsters seemed appropriate.

Sasha finds out about Gertrude Robinson’s death via email. 

The email does not say, _Gertrude Robinson has died._ It does not say, _Gertrude Robinson has disappeared, leaving you to take her place with no guidance._ It says, _You’re being promoted._

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what that means. 

Elias is disconcertingly vague about the whole thing. Gertrude has disappeared, he says. The police are looking for her, but it’s likely that in her old age she’s simply dead, wasting away somewhere where she’ll remain undiscovered for who knows how long. Sasha isn’t sure whether it’s plausible for someone to go missing in a way that isn’t suspicious, but this is Elias’ laziness -- easier to just find a replacement than to look for her. Sasha had heard rumors that they weren’t getting along anyways, and everyone kept waiting for her to retire. 

When Sasha asks for specifics, Elias won’t give them. When she asks whether they should wait a week or two, just to make sure she’s really dead, you know, he tells her there’s no point to it. Gertrude is gone, and she will likely never be found. (His _likely_ sounds a lot like a _hopefully_ what with the eagerness in his voice when he says it.) Sasha is the archivist now. 

He says it like that. Not head archivist, just _archivist_. It strikes her as odd, and it also strikes her as important. But there’s much she doesn’t know about Elias, and honestly, she’s not particularly eager to find out. All the better for her if he stays in his office and never bothers to run the institute he’s the head of. 

Because Gertrude was a stone cold bitch, sure, but she wasn’t stupid. At least Sasha knew what kind of person she was, and she was a good one… Sasha thinks. 

Sasha doesn’t particularly trust either of them, but she trusts Gertrude more than she trusts Elias, so she’s gonna avoid asking any unnecessary questions. 

“I’ll bet he killed her,” Tim says. It’s a Saturday -- the only reason Sasha went into work is because Elias insisted her promotion couldn’t wait until Monday. They’re in Tim’s apartment, which Sasha spends so much time in that it feels like just as much of a home as her own. She’s curled up on his couch, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands, telling him about her meeting with Elias. 

“Don’t say that!” 

“Hey, they hated each other, right? He had to take her down before she got him first!” 

“Tim,” Sasha laughs, “That’s horrible.” 

They can joke about Gertrude’s likely death because, even though she was their boss, neither of them _knew_ her, not really. 

“So.” Tim’s smile fades, and he sits up a bit straighter. “What does a head archivist even do?” 

“Fuck if I know,” Sasha groans. “Take statements, I guess. Organize the archives.” 

“Gertrude was doing a shit job of that one.”  
“I think…” Sasha pauses, considering how to phrase this without Tim thinking she’s crazy. “I think it was on purpose, Tim. No one’s _that_ bad at a job they’ve been doing for so long without a reason.” 

“Yeah, the reason is that she was senile.” 

“I’m serious. I think I’m gonna quit.”  
“But you just got a raise!” Tim objects. “And if you’re gone, then _Martin_ will have to be head archivist. Or me, god forbid.” 

He does make a point. Neither of her archival staff coworkers is suited to leadership positions, as much as she loves them. And with the raise from being promoted, she’s making more now than she would at any of the other jobs she’s been looking at. 

She sighs. “I guess… I’ll think about it.” 

“Good.” Tim grins widely. “Hey, don’t be nervous. You’ll do great.” 

By Monday, Sasha (with a bit of help from Tim) has decided on the best course of action. If there really _is_ something darker happening in the archives, it’ll be best to figure it out before they get drawn into it. She, Tim, and Martin will go through the archives, _all_ of the archives (this, Tim is vehemently against, he feels that it’s a massive waste of time). They will not organize anything. They will not tell Elias what they’re doing. They’ll search and search until they find something that matters, and if they come up empty, well, then Tim was right about Gertrude and Sasha’s probably losing it too. 

But when she gets to the archives, Elias is waiting for her in the statement room, alongside a young woman who looks not much younger than her. 

“Sasha!” his smile is devoid of any real emotion. “This is Victoria Walsh. She’s here to have her statement taken. I thought, since it’s your first statement, I could supervise.” 

Sasha grits her teeth. The archives sometimes goes weeks without anyone coming in to give a statement, why does there have to be one on her first day? Not to mention that this _isn’t_ her first time taking a statement -- first one as head archivist, maybe, but Gertrude would have her take them sometimes. She’s now realizing that might have been in preparation. Did Gertrude _know_ she was going to die? 

That’s not unusual, right? She was old. Old people die. Going missing, that’s a bit weirder, but… 

Now isn’t the time for this. She nods and forces a smile. “Sure. Sounds great.” 

She takes the statement of Victoria Walsh, regarding a mysterious damp patch in her basement. It’s mostly sitting there while Victoria writes, though Sasha notices that she seems a lot more _focused_ than anyone Sasha has taken statements from before. As soon as Sasha asks her to write down what happened, she starts writing and doesn’t stop, as though in some sort of trance. Sasha watches her, and Elias watches Sasha. He looks… frustrated. As though something has happened that he very much did not want to happen. 

Probably just upset Gertrude is gone. Even if they didn’t like each other, they _did_ work together for quite a long time. 

“Thank you for your statement,” Sasha tells Victoria. “I’ll have someone look into this and get back to you if we find anything.” 

Victoria thanks her three times, crying a bit, and then leaves while thanking her for a fourth time. This is different, too, people are usually much less appreciative. She looks… brighter, as though giving her statement has relieved her of some great burden. 

“It feels good to help people, doesn’t it?” Elias asks. 

“Yeah,” Sasha agrees. “If you’ll excuse me, though, I’ve got to go file this.” 

“Oh, of course,” Elias answers. “I’ll leave you to it, then. And, Sasha," he adds. 

"Yes?" 

"I'll be keeping an eye on you. I think you'll make a very good archivist."

Something about that sends shivers down Sasha's spine. She nods pleasantly enough, waiting for him to leave the room, but he doesn’t. It’s a challenge, she realizes. He wants her to leave first. He’s not just here to watch her watch a lady write something down. What’s in this room. What does he _think_ is in this room

She’s not about to have a standoff with her boss. She leaves. 

“Martin!” she calls. “Martin?” 

Martin leans out of the opened doorway of the records room. “Yeah?” 

“Where do you usually file statements?”

“Um, well, it depends, there are a few places, but now that I’m looking around I think Gertrude was reorganizing them after I put them away because some things are definitely not where I remember putting them…” 

“What do you mean?” Stepping in, Sasha sees that the records room is a mess -- boxes pulled off of shelves, filing cabinets open at random. 

“It’s mostly the ones that seem more credible. Like, statement of that guy who was in love with Princess Diana’s ghost? Still there. Statement of the lady with that weird organ? Gone. Zombie dog guy? Still there in all five pages of detail. Bookstore guy? Gone. Guy who thought he was turning into a werewolf-” 

“I get the picture, Martin.” 

“Right. Sorry.” 

“Can you file this somewhere?” Sasha asks. “And then go through them and pick out all the ones that are in different places from where you remember. Where’s Tim?” 

“He said he was dying of boredom and went to investigate that spare room.” 

“Right. Of course. Why would he do what I tell him to? Not like I’m his _boss_.”  
“I can go get him if you want?” Martin offers. 

“No, it’s fine. Stay here.” 

Sasha leaves Martin to go through the cabinets and goes in search of Tim. For Gertrude to be rearranging the archives with no rhyme or reason… she’s not sure what that means. Perhaps she had her own incomprehensible way of filing, but if that’s true, why would she let Martin do it first? 

Sasha knows what Martin means by the credible cases. It’s not even the ones that have more evidence, necessarily, just the ones that felt _wrong_ somehow. She’s investigated enough statements to know that most of them are bullshit, but there are a few that stick out. 

So Gertrude was hiding those. But what for? 

Tim is standing in the spare room, staring at the floor. 

“Sasha,” he waves her over urgently when he sees her, “I found something.” 

It’s a trapdoor. There, on the floor of their little metropolitan office building, is a trapdoor that looks like it’s been there, undisturbed, for a hundred years at _least_. It’s cartoonishly suspicious, almost. Wood that doesn’t fit in with the scratchy office carpet, big iron handle, old-timey lock. She tries to open it, but it doesn’t budge. 

“It’s locked,” Tim supplies unhelpfully. 

“What,” she says, “The fuck."

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @boyfriem or on twitter @chainsawmen


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